


Morning Has Broken

by karaoke_knight



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Curtain Fic, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Singing, Songfic, happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:24:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karaoke_knight/pseuds/karaoke_knight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn takes a while to wake up, but Liam always knows just how to help.</p>
<p>A songfic where Liam sings the popular hymn Morning Has Broken because I have a huge soft spot for songfics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Has Broken

**Author's Note:**

> First ever completed songfic, I might add. Let me know how it goes! Also, pardon all my alliteration. It was an accident... ;D

Zayn takes his waking slow.

The first thing that happens, before his eyes open, before he moves, before his even breathing changes speed to match the active day, he becomes aware that he’s not sleeping anymore. He likes to lie there curled up in his own heat, cradled in the warmth of ruffled blankets, enveloped in the euphoria of being completely comfortable and warm and safe. His body is heavy with sleep in among the sheets, but he feels light, like he’s flying, and it’s this feeling that he embraces as he drifts back off to sleep which makes waking up very difficult indeed.

The other boys find it frustrating. On the days Zayn’s alarm doesn’t work, Harry will try to shout him awake. Then he’ll climb on top of him, crushing him, hoping the discomfort of not being able to breathe will make him get up. Louis tickles him, or rips the blankets off, leaving Zayn exposed and cold to the crispness of the hotel room, air conditioning having gone unchecked through the night. Niall sometimes doesn’t do anything at all and when Zayn finally gets up, he has only scant minutes to get ready. He rushes around the hotel swearing up a storm, while Niall looks on, amused, and crunches on his toast.

But Liam. Liam knows. Liam knows that Zayn doesn’t wake up all at once. It takes time.

Liam has always been much more of a morning person than Zayn, more than any of them perhaps. Before Zayn’s even taken his first conscious breath, Liam will probably have already gone for a run and showered. Maybe read the paper from back home on his phone, or texted his mum. Liam revels in mornings to himself; he enjoys his time alone. He also likes to share it with Zayn, and part of their routine is Liam waking Zayn up.

Liam likes to just lie there with him sometimes, freshly showered and still a little damp, sharing space and sharing breath. He’ll nudge him gently, more gentle than any jangling alarm or urgent voice. Zayn may grumble, but Liam will just chuckle and get up to put some tea on, knowing Zayn’s already started to wake up.

He loves being woken up by Liam.

But this morning is different. Zayn’s dream-fogged thoughts of warmth and wind and his childhood back garden are gently permeated by a lilting melody.

Liam is humming.

Then he begins to sing.

> _Morning has broken, like the first morning._
> 
> _Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird._

His voice is rough and soft at the same time. Rough from sleep, but the gentlest sound Zayn has ever heard. He’s singing mostly to himself and so quietly, that some of the pitches turn into soft whispers. But Zayn can hear it. He understands.

> _Praise for the singing, praise for the morning,_
> 
> _Praise for them springing fresh from the Word._

It’s a hymn.

Liam’s voice gets a little stronger, and it is so warm, as warm as the blankets around him.

> _Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlight from heaven._
> 
> _Like the first dewfall, on the first grass._

The inside of his eyelids are dark, speckled with hues of the morning sun, but the imagery fills his head, his whole being, with thoughts of color. Every word inspires a different pigment, shade, texture.

> _Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden,_

Zayn can smell it.

> _Sprung in completeness where His feet pass._

Liam knows he’s awake. Or maybe he doesn’t. He sits down next to Zayn on the plush, white hotel bed, the mattress dipping gently under his weight. He keeps singing, and Zayn feels hand curl under his jaw and a thumb stroke across his cheek.

> _Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning._

He can hear Liam’s soft smile. The pad of Liam’s thumb smooths tenderly across his cheekbone, brushing his eyelashes.

> _Born of the one light Eden saw play._

Liam gets up again, mattress shifting under Zayn. The words of this hymn, they are not from Zayn’s world. He knows that Liam knows this, but he also knows that they still kind of are. Liam is not singing this hymn as praise to God, even though it is. Zayn understands this kind of praise. Liam is singing this as praise to the morning. Praise to the light and to life. And he’s singing it to Zayn. Zayn’s eyes flutter open.

> _Praise with elation, praise every morning;_
> 
> _God's recreation of the new day._

Liam is standing at the window of the hotel. He’s looking out across the sleepy city and messing with yesterday’s jumper, turning it right-side out absently. The morning light dances across his skin, illuminating his profile but shading the rest of him in subtle darkness. The sun makes Zayn’s eyes prickle, but it makes Liam’s skin glow a radiant orange and yellow, the light reflecting off the gentle shape of his face and his soft lips as he sings.

It is the most beautiful thing Zayn has ever seen.

> _Morning has broken, like the first morning._

Liam turns to Zayn and their eyes meet.

> _Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird._

He sits down next to Zayn on the bed. Zayn pushes the covers off and sits up. He scoots so he’s balanced upright, legs curling under him. He’s wobbly with sleep, but his eyes are locked with Liam’s.

> _Praise for the singing, praise for the morning,_

Liam cups Zayn’s face in both hands. Zayn brings his hands up to Liam’s arms, steadying himself. His heart flutters in his chest.

> _Praise for them springing fresh from the Word._

Liam sings the last line against Zayn’s lips as he leans in. Their lips touch and while Zayn still hasn’t quite figured out how to work his body again, he knows this part. The delicate press of Liam’s smooth lips on his still chapped ones wakes him up faster than any alarm ever will.

Zayn tips his head to the side, sucking at Liam’s lush lower lip slightly. Liam lets out a breath and with it, a nearly inaudible trill of pleasure. He opens his mouth a little more and takes a breath before grazing his tongue on the very corner of Zayn’s top lip.

Zayn hums and it’s nearly silent, voice still rough with sleep. He tongues into Liam’s mouth gently, softly, carefully. Liam curls his tongue around his and Zayn draws it into his mouth and sucks on it lightly.

Liam sighs into his mouth like this is where he wants to be, forever and always, and Zayn feels much the same.

This is music in itself.

With one last gentle tug on his bottom lip, Liam pulls back, still cupping Zayn’s face gently in his warm palms. Zayn is not ready, nowhere near ready to stop kissing Liam, but he doesn’t think he ever will be. His lips tingle with warmth, delicate nerve endings brought to life by Liam’s own soft lips.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Liam beams, eyes nearly crinkled shut in elation.

Zayn’s heart is burning, busting with love like an exploding star. He can’t help the grin that forces itself onto his face, revealing his teeth and splitting his cheeks with joy. He tries to hide it, tilting his face into Liam’s hands, but Liam will have none of it. He brushes both thumbs across his smiling cheeks and plants a squishy kiss on the end of his nose.

“I love you,” is what Zayn replies instead.

With twinkling eyes, Liam tackles him back down against the mattress.

Liam giggles against his neck. “I love you too,” he says, and Zayn clasps their hands together. Liam whispers to him about the day and twines their legs together on top of the sheets.

Happiness bubbles from deep inside him and out of his chest, filling the room. Like pure water gurgling from an underground spring, his happiness flows and ebbs within the room, uncontained. Everywhere he looks, it’s like the sunlight is transforming his love into glowing joy, and everything has turned to gold. Liam is gazing at him now, copper-brown eyes exuding exaltation. Liam looks like he feels, eyes sparkling, skin glowing, and bathed in the morning light.

Zayn leans up to kiss the joy on his lips.

Maybe Zayn likes mornings too.


End file.
